3/10/08

The intent for tonight’s journey was take back that part of yourself you gave away to someone or for purpose.

As I enter, I find myself standing on my familiar path my staff slung over my back. The ground is very hard and cold this evening. The breeze even ahs a distinct chill to it. Walking towards the pool the fine mist sends chills up my spine, thinking about the cold and knowing how much I don’t like to be cold I tentatively slide into the water. The air contains a mixture of muddled scents playing their unique symphony of release and freedom. I think to myself how I am facing the unknown, the unremembered and how I long to run down this path that is now before me. Taking one last breath, I flip over and swim down, down, down, through the narrow midway point and on up to the surface on the other side.

To my surprise Wascar was there waiting for me with a beautifully beaded buckskin jacket. Swimming to the edge he reaches out to lend a hand and effortlessly lifts me completely out of the pool. Standing there we exchange greetings as he hands me the jacket. As soon as I put it on he smiles and embraces me, then says come we’ve got work to do, walking over to the wall of the cavern and pushes to my amazement the wall opens just like a door to a dark room. As I’m gazing into the darkness Wascar says take this spool of red twine and toss it. Immediately we are in a forest thick with undergrowth, the twine tangled within the prickly coppice.

Instinctively I begin following the twine, wading through the bramble for what seemed like hours upon hours. Eventually the twine ended tied to a very old sign that read “there is no need to feel obligated to do for others; when giving do not give yourself away.” Then another door appeared, opening it I could see a young boy sitting on the opposite side of a fire. Without saying anything I sat down. His gaze fell intensely on my eyes, after an uncomfortable silence he said, “it’s not your responsibility, remember our grandfather and his sadness for letting our people down? Us leaving our homes so long ago was not your burden, it is not for you bare, it was for you to see and learn from, that’s all. Through your sorrow, love for our people and your love for grandfather you adopted pleasing others many times forsaking yourself.”

As he spoke these last words I yanked pulling hard on the twine that was now in my hand and very quickly wound it completely around a small stick. Wascar, whom I’d forgotten about, whispered, “blow” and as I did the bundle of string burst into flames and disappeared. When the light from the flames dimmed Wascar and I were back at his campfire, looking up he smiled and said “the jacket fits you, you should keep it; isn’t healing a good thing.” Standing up I told him good night and returned…